


Khal Drogo Imagines: SFW

by robinwritesallthethings



Series: Jason Momoa Characters [6]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:48:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24939337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Relationships: Khal Drogo/Reader
Series: Jason Momoa Characters [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934317
Kudos: 42





	1. Imagine Khal Drogo choosing you to be his bride because you’re larger.

You stand at the end of the line as Khal Drogo dismounts. You take a deep breath, silently willing him to choose you as his bride. It’s the only way you’re going to escape the stifling life your father has condemned you to.

But you’re not fooling yourself. You’re shorter and heavier than both of your sisters. Your hips are curvy, your breasts are full, and your thighs are thick.

Even so, you learned Dothraki in preparation for meeting Drogo. You studied the customs of his people. You’re ready if he does favor you.

To your surprise, he comes right to you as soon as he’s off his horse. You greet him in Dothraki and he looks at you curiously. “You speak the language of my people.”

You nod. “I wanted to be able to communicate with the man who might be my husband.”

He smirks, reaching out and grabbing your hips, squeezing them roughly. “You have a body for bearing children,” he growls. “I would very much enjoy planting my seed in you.”

Your father, who doesn’t understand what you’re saying, waves his hand. “You can take her as a concubine if you’d like, when you choose one of my other daughters.”

Drogo is instantly angry. “No one calls my future wife a concubine,” he spits at your father. “We will marry before I leave the city.”

He swings back up onto his horse and looks at you one last time, his eyes filled with desire.

Your father’s translator quickly informs him of what occurred, leaving out Drogo’s cruder comments.

Despite your father’s surprise at Drogo’s choice, he must keep up appearances. On your wedding day, you have a beautiful dress and your hair is done, and there are many extravagant gifts.

But your favorite is the mare that Drogo gives you. “She’s perfect,” you tell him.

He smiles and lifts you onto her, looking very pleased.

Later that night, he claims you with his body. Dothraki usually take their women from behind, but Drogo lays you on your back and gets on top of you so he can bury his face in your chest while you make love.

After, you lay in his arms and wonder, “Are you really going to give my father an army?”

Drogo chuckles deeply. “Your father is a fool. He gave me the treasure first. Now I owe him nothing.”

“I’m treasure?” you ask.

He kisses you possessively. “My most precious treasure,” he assures you. “Now sleep. We have a long ride tomorrow.”

You close your eyes and snuggle against him. You know you’ll have a long and happy life with Drogo.


	2. Imagine Khal Drogo confessing that he dreamed about you.

“I dreamed about you last night,” your husband grunts. 

You're tucked into the crook of his arm as you lay in bed together. You turn your face up to his and smile. “What did you dream, my love?” 

He smiles back, stroking your hair, dragging his fingers down your arm until his hand rests on your belly. “You gave me a strong son,” he murmurs. “I watched you grow. Felt him move inside you. Then I held him in my arms.” 

“I will give you a strong son, Drogo,” you promise.

Even now, you could be pregnant, but it's too early to tell. You've only been married for a month. 

He nods and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I know you will.” 

You had never expected to feel the way you do about him. Your father had arranged your marriage for an alliance, hoping to use Drogo's armies in his plans for conquest. You knew now, of course, that Drogo was not so easily manipulated. Your father would learn soon enough. 

But the way Drogo looks at you. How he touches you. The gentle care he demonstrates when teaching you how to ride the mare he gave you as a wedding gift. The patience he shows as you slowly learn Dothraki every night before bed. 

He truly loves you. You know you are a very lucky woman. 

Drogo's hand slips lower and you gasp, your legs spreading automatically for him. He rolls on top of you, pressing you down into the bed, slowly drawing your wrists over your head. 

You were told that Dothraki only take their women from behind, like horses. But Drogo likes to look into your eyes. 

“Give me a strong son, my love,” you beg, gazing up at him. 

“Yes,” he says simply. 

Then his lips are on yours and you forget how to breathe.


End file.
